Weaving Spider webs on dried petals
Each one as yellow as the sun.
There are centuries resting on each
One
Of
Them,
Some become black when I cough.
The flower is made up of seven,
When it use to be eight and nine.
Those petals should be delicate,
But I only feel cracked rocks.
Its stem goes down to hell,
Along with any trace of you.
The flower is no more.

Like a dry petal,
Neither is my love,
For you.
Goodbye oh yellow sun.

I died in the light with shards of glass
Stuck in my back.
I died tonight when I saw the ripped pages
All over the floor.
I burned them when I was young.
Those were my secrets bleeding
On the floor.

I died tonight when I realized that shadows
Could cry.
I Didn't know darkness its had its own eyes,
Its own lives.
Teenage tears are mixed with adult grief.
I've been my own enemy; the worse thief.

I died at seventeen.

Do not fall in love
Unless you can turn darkness
Into light for them.

Those cracks on your face are echoes
From you heart.
And you said you felt nothing.
I knew you weren't boring.
Your lip is slashed open.
It trembled,
But not from the pain, but rather,
From what you never said.
Sapphires lock my eyes.
There is the unknown in them.
Pull them out! Please!

They are as pretty as a Lie.

Vowels are dug deep, into these pits
That go straight to hell.
(My heart).
Consonants burn in a pile of
Maggots and trash.
(Your heart).
I'll sell you these words if you buy
Me a shovel.
I'll put these letters together and I'll go through the trouble.
(For you).
My red pen is out of ink.
Those ripped up papers have suicide
All.over them.
Burn them with the maggots!
Burn them with the maggots!

This mattress has secrets to tell.
It has your **** smell.
****.

A faithless angel rest on one shoulder.
The damaged one hangs onto the other.
They are throwing daggers between my ears.
I'm unaware of why they are sad though.
Even the impossible quite on themselves.

It needs to die eventually.
You cannot live this way.

I have lightning in my pen.
If you look closely you'll see
Bodies and burnt
Tongues.

The light is as bright as your
Summertime sadness.
(It's as obvious too.)

Nature cries when it's cold
In your heart.

She's drowning in you.